You are perfect

Writing blog for @frenchman-eire he/she/they/it possible requests (check pinned post)

[eire-cant-write]

Hey hey, this blog will be a mix of my original stories, fanfics, and poems.

As of right now one shot and headcannon requests are closed.

Tales of Everton: Cynder

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Catalyst

Prologue

Briarheart's Peril

Allegiances

Prologue

Blooming Out of Death

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

[eire-cant-write]

Blooming Out Of Death

Chapter 14

Word Count: 1113

Squirrelflight opened her eyes to see her daughter standing over her, head bowed as she used her nose to nudge her shoulder gently to wake her. The pressure of the nudging drew a soft hiss from the deputy as it aggravated her sore muscles. 

“Squirrelflight! It’s almost time for training,” Sparkpelt whispered urgently.

Yawning, Squirrelflight lifted her head. Her daughter stepped back, still watching somewhat anxiously. 

“Go on ahead, I’ll be there soon.” She emphasized the instruction by nodding toward the den entrance. Sparkpelt lingered for a moment more and Squirrelflight nudged her toward the entrance. “It’ll be fine, just let the first training group know I’m coming,” she insisted, trying to reassure the younger she-cat.

Finally relenting, Sparkpelt nodded, leaning closer to rest her muzzle on top of her mother’s head for just a moment before whisking out through the den entrance. Watching as the fluffy ginger she cat- almost a replica of her- retreated, Squirrelflight rose from her nest, stretching with a groan as her overworked muscles protested. 

As soon as she was out of sight, Squirrelflight stuck her head out of the den’s entrance, checking to be sure no one was heading toward the area. Pulling her head back into the den, she gave herself a rough shake before crouching into the attack position Mapleshade had shown her. 

She closed her eyes, performing the attack as she imagined an opponent in front of her, the hours of practice she’d done allowing her to replicate the move without assistance. Repeating the battle move a few more times, she let out a delighted purr. 

Settling down, or at least attempting to, she gave her fur a quick groom. Her claws worked into the ground excitedly; she hadn’t been so excited to teach a new battle move since she’d mentored Foxleap.

Quickly working the last few shreds of ragged moss from the thick fur of her tail, Squirrelflight leapt to her paws.

 Just before exiting the den, she straightened her shoulders and lifted her head, trying to look calm and dignified. She did not want to seem like an overly excitable apprentice all over again, she’d had enough of the treatment that got her on the quest to the Sundrown place.

With her head held high, as dignified as possible, she stalked out into the clearing. Hopefully it would make her seem more in control. There was barely anyone to be seen outside the den, however; only the guards set in place at the tunnel entrance and Leafpool, seemingly calling something to whoever was in the healer’s den.

There was no sign of Bramblestar. 

Squirrelflight let out a soft sigh of relief at the realization, then scowled at herself for the reaction. Didn’t you decide you wouldn’t let him bother you anymore? Keep it together, she thought to herself.

Forcing a smile, she made her way toward the camp’s exit and gave a nod in greeting to the cats who sat guard, pushing past into the tunnel before they could say anything. Once she was certain the guards could not see her, she sped up her pace, from a deliberate and confident stalk breaking into a run, eyes fixed on the ground. If she dared to take her time, she’d be late; the sun was beginning to piece the little gaps between the brambles that comprised the tunnel.

The light grew stronger as she neared the opening of the thorny structure. She sped up, sprinting the last few pawsteps of the tunnel. Looking up, Squirrelflight noticed just seconds too late that there was another cat at the end of the tunnel and slammed full force into the little grey apprentice. The two cats fell into a tangle of limbs and fur, a surprised yelp sounding from Twigpaw as they collided and collapsed.

“I am so sorry, Twigpaw,” Squirrelflight apologized as she untangled herself from the apprentice. Once separated, Twigpaw gave herself a rough shake, scattering the bits of leaf litter that had stuck to her fur from the fall.

“No, no, I was in the way,” the apprentice quickly excused, shifting anxiously from paw to paw.

Giving the little grey cat a curious look, the deputy sat, curling her tail around her paws and giving Twigpaw an expectant look. The apprentice followed suit, staying silent for a moment, working her claws into the ground anxiously before sheathing them again.

“I can tell you’re nervous,” Squirrelflight prompted. “Is it about the rogues? You must know that even if we must fight, your clanmates will be by your side. This is what you’re training for.”

Looking up at her, Twigpaw frowned. “That’s not what I’m worried about.” She looked uncomfortable, being put on the spot by the deputy’s inquiries, but persisted despite the obvious discomfort.

“I’ve only ever trained with Ivypool,” she explained. “I’m worried the other warriors will judge me. Especially since I wasn’t born in Thunderclan. I don’t want to make Ivypool seem like a bad mentor; I don’t want to be not good enough to train with the rest of the group!”

Squirrelflight gave a small frown at Twigpaw’s confession. “Twigpaw, you belong in Thunderclan just as much as the next cat, no matter where you came from. My father wasn’t born in Thunderclan either, but he was a Thunderclan warrior, through and through.”

Twigpaw shrugged at Squirrelflight’s words, seemingly unconvinced.

“Your clanmates are here to support you, not tear you down,” the older she-cat continued. “Ivypool will be there to guide you too, as will I. In fact, if it’ll help, I’d be happy to work with you myself.”

Brightening slightly at the prospect, Twigpaw nodded. She stood, her head held high with a renewed sense of determination, and gave a purr of thanks to Squirrelflight. The deputy laughed at her quick turn of mood, standing as well.

“We should be on our way now,” Squirrelflight reminded her, though not without a hint of laughter still present in her voice.

The two cats traveled the remaining distance together, Twigpaw slightly ahead of Squirrelflight, seemingly excited now. However once they reached the ridge of the training hollow, she stopped, waiting for Squirrelflight to catch up.

Reaching the top of the rise, the crowd of cats waiting in the hollow came into Squirrelflight’s view. Some chatted, others stretched out in the shafts of sunlight breaking through the leaves, but the most worrying of the group were the ones lashing their tails impatiently, or watching for movement among the foliage with disgruntled looks.

Squirrelflight sighed, straightening her posture before turning to Twigpaw. “It's about time we get down there, wouldn’t you say?”

The apprentice nodded, and the two she-cats strode into the training hollow.

[eire-cant-write]

Blooming Out Of Death

Chapter 13

Word Count: 1122

“Starclan has forsaken me,” Squirrelflight growled to herself quietly as the sickly light of the dream meadow reached her eyes. She glanced over at Mapleshade before closing her eyes again. The tortoiseshell wore an amused smirk, almost entertained by the other’s despair.

“Good to see you’re coming to your senses,” Mapleshade teased in a dry tone. “Starclan doesn’t care about you- or me, or any other cat that dares to go against their wishes. They only care about those who serve them unquestioningly.”

Squirrelflight snorted in disbelief. “Starclan has forsaken you because you are a murderer. They have forsaken me for doing as they say.”  With that, she buried her muzzle between her paws, flicking her tail over it. Perhaps if she could dream her way into wherever she was, she could dream her way out.

She closed her eyes, trying her best to ignore Mapleshade staring at her with an amused look on her face. The feeling of those yellow eyes trained on her made it difficult to even attempt sleep. “That’s not going to work,” Mapleshade interrupted, her tone much like that of a mentor scolding their apprentice. Squirrelflight fought back a hiss in response, instead simply frowning and flattening her ears back.

That only seemed to irritate the huge tortoiseshell, who glowered at her. “Fine,” she hissed. “Waste my time and see what happens. I’d be happy to give you another scratch to match the first one.” Squirrelflight flinched at the threat. She wouldn’t put it beyond the murderous spirit to follow through.

“Listen, I didn’t ask for this,” she snapped back. “If anyone is wasting time it’s you.” The ginger she-cat lifted her head slightly to shoot a glare at Mapleshade. The tortoiseshell seemed to be entirely unintimidated in spite of the cold look.

“Oh poor Squirrelflight, with her living kits and beloved clan,” Mapleshade sneered. “Such a sad life you live! Especially with the answer to all your problems being practically served to you!”

Squirrelflight stood, bristling at the other she-cat with a scowl. “My life is not easy,” she hissed in return. “But, unlike you, it’s no fault of mine! You chose your path when you murdered other cats for revenge. I’ve done nothing but do my best to serve my clan- and to serve Starclan. I’ve been condemned for nothing but the best of intentions. Surely you must know how it feels to lose the respect of everyone that ever mattered to you, so why must you taunt me like this?!”

Yellow eyes wide with shock, Mapleshade’s mouth hung agape at Squirrelflight’s outburst. She clearly had not expected a retort from the ginger she-cat. Furthermore, the other had been more right than she’d like to admit. After all, she had admitted it the night of their very first meeting. The loss of her clan’s trust and respect- of her clan as a whole- had just added more pain and grief in the end. Not that Mapleshade would ever say Squirrelflight was right.

Trying to regain her composure, Mapleshade rose to her paws as well, stretching to her full height and towering over Squirrelflight. “Fine,” she conceded, her tone haughty despite seeming to give in. “If you want your clanmates to respect you again, you need to be respectable. You shouldn’t act pathetic and useless just because some brainless tom wants you to.”

Squirrelflight glared up at Mapleshade, yet held her tongue, clearly interested in what the other had to say. Clearly, Mapleshade took her silence as permission to continue. “Deputy is not a position given lightly- at least it wasn’t when I was alive- so you must have done something to earn the title you have. All you have to do is remind your clanmates who you are and why you are deputy.”

Mapleshade paused, glancing at the ginger deputy with an expectant look. “I’m not pathetic,” Squirrelflight retorted. “And I am going to prove that, to my clan and to Bramblestar- and you. I swear to Starclan I’ll make you eat your words.”

Squirrelflight’s resolve seemed to bring a satisfied smirk to Mapleshade’s face, though it disappeared as quickly as it had come. “I know just how you can do that,” she said in a silky tone, mischief clear in her expression. “Proving your fierceness would certainly show you’re not to be messed with, wouldn’t it? I could show you how to fight ruthlessly.”

Shaking her head, Squirrelflight let out an annoyed huff. She made eye contact with the other she-cat before speaking. “I will not fight like a rogue. Warriors have honor; we do not kill unless necessary. Maybe you’ve forgotten that after all this time. You can help me either according to my terms or not at all.” Her tone was firm, her expression serious.

A smirk broke through Mapleshade’s sinister demeanor, and she slowly nodded. “It’s been a long time since someone dared to talk back to me like that,” she said after a moment, a hint of excitement in her voice. “In that case, I’ll agree to your conditions, just this one time.”

Without warning, the huge tortoiseshell crouched into an offensive position, lashing her tail as she slowly circled Squirrelflight. The ginger she-cat followed suit, keeping her eyes on Mapleshade. She braced herself for an attack, ready for the other to leap at any moment.

Mapleshade tensed, seemingly about to jump on top of her opponent and pin her, but instead bounded forward, using her shoulder to knock her off balance. Before Squirrelflight could regain her balance, her tail was caught between Mapleshade’s teeth, holding her in place. As she attempted to rip her tail from the grasp, the other lashed out with a back kick, catching Squirrelflight in the side of the head and sending her reeling.

As the deputy fell to the grass cushioned ground, the grip on her tail was released. The ground itself seemed to shift as Squirrelflight’s head spun, still disoriented by the force of the kick. “How’s that for not fighting like a rogue,” Mapleshade crowed proudly. She padded over to where Squirrelflight lay in the grass, crouching in front of her. “Think you can handle that?”

Surprised, Squirrelflight nodded, her vision finally stabilizing again. She stood slowly enough to test if her legs would support her. The blow to her head had been heavy, but not debilitating. She dropped into a crouch, her eyes fiery with determination. “My turn.”

Squirrelflight and Mapleshade practiced the move over and over. Despite her limbs burning with effort after several rounds, Squirrelflight insisted on trying again until-

“Squirrelflight,” Sparkpelt’s voice called. Jolting back to reality, Squirrelflight could feel the soft moss of her nest pressed into her fur, as well as her daughter looming over her.

[eire-cant-write]

Blooming Out Of Death

Chapter 12

Word Count: 712

Without much hesitation, nor socializing, Thunderclan began its journey home. The clan members talked among themselves about the Gathering, murmuring about the sightings of rogues that had been reported.

Squirrelflight couldn’t bring herself to pay attention to their hushed speculations about who these strange cats might be. An underlying worry about her own image reflecting on Thunderclan nagged at her instead, not to mention her other problem; the undead murderer stalking her dreams. If Crowfeather thought something was so wrong that he’d betray his loyalty to Windclan to help me, what does every other cat think? She shook the thought from her head, straightening her posture, and trying her best to look unbothered and capable as Thunderclan departed from the scene.

The lively behavior of the young warriors from their trip to the Gathering had disappeared. Squirrelflight could only assume she had missed unsettling news, as the patrol now had a wary air about it, and its members glanced about in the dark, eyes scanning the shadows for unseen threats.

She decided, as the group finally reached the bramble barrier of their home, she’d listen in as those who went to the Gathering passed on the news to the warriors who stayed home. At least, that was her intention, until Bramblestar called for the clan’s attention. Quickly, she took her place at the foot of the ledge upon which he stood, trying to project an air of understanding about the situation. 

“I am sure you are all curious about the Gathering,” Bramblestar’s voice rang out, above the continuing mutters of the clan. “And I’m sure it is clear the news is not good.” As the words left his mouth, silence fell over the crowd of cats, each and every one of them expectantly staring up at their leader in wait for his words.

Squirrelflight herself found that she too was entirely focused on him. She used to find his ability to capture attention and command a crowd to be fascinating- admirable even. Now it just made her feel like a stone had settled in her stomach. Had she ever really loved him? Or was she just enthralled by charisma?

She had no time to wonder. Regardless of her feelings toward Bramblestar at the moment, she had to pay attention; she had to know what happened, to serve her clan.

“A group of rogues have been discovered on the edge of Windclan territory,” he was busy explaining when Squirrelflight regained her focus. “Onestar- as always- tried to downplay the severity of the situation, but made it very clear these rogues are dangerous. He made it seem like Windclan warriors have clashed with the rouges, but did not give any more information on it. We can only assume that warriors have been injured, at the very least.” He scowled, clearly displeased with the other leader’s handling of the situation. 

“We must be prepared for an encounter, or, Starclan forbid, even battle. Starting tomorrow, I want every warrior to participate in battle training regularly. Twigpaw,” Bramblestar addressed the apprentice, his amber eyes searching for her among the crowd. “You will join them.”

Squirrelflight let out a soft huff, irritated. The more warriors participating in battle training, the less prey on the fresh kill pile. “Squirrelflight,” Bramblestar’s voice interrupted her worrying. “I trust you will oversee training?”

She looked up at him, giving a stiff nod. “Good,” he said smoothly. “I expect you to participate as well.” The ginger she-cat flicked her tail, seething at his condescending manner. She glared up at him a moment more, though he didn’t seem to notice. 

He called the clan meeting to a close, and the muttering started up again, the cats of the clan dispersing to their dens. Squirrelflight glanced up at the sky, taking note that the moon was now sinking in the sky. The day had been long- feeling even longer than the previous, yet still tiring, days. 

She let out a yawn, standing and padding away from her spot below the highledge, toward her den. With the promise of more work and more stress weighing down on her, as well as her new worries, she settled among her clanmates once more. Before closing her eyes, she sent a silent prayer to Starclan for one peaceful night.

[eire-cant-write]

Blooming Out of Death

Chapter 11

Word count: 957

Just as she suspected, Squirrelflight got no questions about the scratch on her muzzle. At most she got a concerned glance from her sister, and a sad, sympathetic look from Alderheart. That’s good , she thought to herself as the day drew to a close. I don’t need anyone to be asking about it . 

It was nearly time to leave for the Gathering. Most of the warriors gathered in the center of the stone hollow, waiting for Bramblestar’s signal that it was time to leave. Only a few would be left behind in the camp tonight. Amidst the milling cats, Squirrelflight waited.

A yowl sounded from the ledge. The reaction was instantaneous; the group made their way over to the camp entrance, waiting only for Bramblestar to bound down from the ledge and take the lead, as they did every full moon. The huge tabby quickly made his way to the front, and the clan members set off on their trek to the island. 

Like always, the young warriors played as though they were kits fresh out of the nursery on their journey, chasing after one another and leaping over felled branches. Squirrelflight watched with a small smile, remembering when she had been just as young and carefree. 

Back on the quest to find the sun-drown place, there were no bounds to her mischief. Now she was deputy, laden down with responsibility and stature; she could allow no room in her life for mischief.

 Still, she decided she ought to let the young warriors enjoy their adolescence a while longer, or at least until they reached the border. Then she would remind them they were representing Thunderclan, and should be on their best behavior.

“Onestar,” a loud deep voice called from the front as they reached the tree bridge at last; it was quite clear Bramblestar was the one speaking. “Harespring, good to see you both. I trust Windclan is well?”

“You will hear how Windclan is doing when the gathering starts, Bramblestar,” Onestar remarked, his tone cold and standoffish as always. It was hard to imagine he had once been friends with a Thunderclan cat.

With Onestar’s dismissal of conversation, the two clans began to cross over the bridge, warriors from each scrambling across the slick surface side by side, their adversity forgotten for one night. One warrior in particular caught Squirrelflight’s eye. Crowfeather.

She and Crowfeather had become acquainted on the quest to find their home beside the lake, back when they were both apprentices. She even felt a certain fondness for the prickly Windclan warrior, and was quite certain he felt the same, even if he was not as vocal about it as the other cats who had been on the quest. 

For once, that fondness he felt for the Thunderclan deputy showed, as an expression of concern shrouded his face upon the sight of her injury. Squirrelflight simply gave him a weary smile and attempted to lose herself amidst the crowd of cats waiting to cross. When she got to the end of the bridge, she found him waiting there. She attempted to duck her head and pass by, as rude as it seemed, to avoid talking about it, but he was not deterred.

“Squirrelflight,” he greeted her. “How do you do?” He leaped up onto the end of the fallen tree, turning back to watch her expectantly.

The ginger she-cat followed suit, aware she would not be getting out of the conversation. “Well enough,” she replied. “Busy as ever.” She dug her claws into the bark, careful not to fall. “And you?” She asked, hoping to keep the subject off her.

“As well as I can be,” he said dismissively. “I serve my clan to the best of my ability, therefore, life is good.” He glanced at her muzzle. “Are you sure you are well?”

Squirrelflight was silent for a moment, then let out a tense laugh. “Oh, are you worried about this?” She swiped a paw over her face, brushing over the scratch. “It was an accident. On of the younger warriors was a bit too enthusiastic about battle training.” With a dismissive wave of her tail, she began to pad along the trunk.

The dark tom followed a pawstep behind. “Surely they should know better than to unsheathe their claws. If you had been any more unlucky, they could’ve blinded you.” His tone was more pressing and inquisitive than accusatory.

Squirrelflight glazed over her shoulder at him. “It’s honestly not an issue, Crowfeather, and while I appreciate your concern, it was simply an accident.” She emphasized the last few words, hoping he’d realize that was final.

Crowfeather scowled at her tone, looking more like his usual self. “I believe you Squirrelflight. Still, if you need help, I am here; I realize we aren’t clanmates, but we still have a bond.”

Stunned into silence, Squirrelflight stared at him for a moment. He must be serious , she thought. After all, he tries so hard to prove he’s loyal to Windclan . After an awkward pause she nodded.

The two old friends made the rest of the way across the bridge in silence, Crowfeather seemingly satisfied, and Squirrelflight lost in her own thoughts. At the other shore, she mewed a polite goodbye and made her way to the deputies’ place at the foot of the Great Oak. The gathering was commencing, but she felt a million miles away. Unable to pay attention to the leaders speaking, she let her thoughts wander until the gathering had finished and she was pulled back to the world around her. It seemed as quickly as they had gotten there, the gathering was over, and it was time to return to their respective clans until the next full moon truce.

[eire-cant-write]

Blooming Out of Death

Chapter 10

Word count: 816

Something was different that night. The field was slightly less saturated, the flowers had less color. Clouds, puffy and white, drifted across the sky, whereas before, the blue expanse had been empty. Squirrelflight narrowed her eyes. This proved it; she was not simply having strange dreams. 

“Why do you keep bringing me here,” the ginger she-cat demanded, not bothering to look in Mapleshade’s direction. 

The huge tortoiseshell warrior padded forward, brushing against the smaller cat. “What happened to ‘hello’? Not even a ‘hi’? How rude,” she responded smoothly. “I thought dear old Firestar and Sandstorm raised you better.” Mapleshade turned around to face Squirrelflight. 

“Oh,” she purred with a devious smile. “I’m not the one bringing you here. No one is bringing you here.” The tortoiseshell’s words hung in the air for a moment, confused silence suspended between them. 

“That’s ridiculous, someone had to have brought me here,” Squirrelflight denied, finally. “You’re making no sense.” She shook her head, refusing to believe what Mapleshade was telling her. But she remembered- before the Great Battle, Ivypool had managed to dream her way into the Dark Forest when she wanted to. The clarity the memory had brought showed on Squirrelflight’s face, causing Mapleshade’s grin to grow wider. “You came here because you wanted to. No, you needed to. You need my help, and deep down, you know it.” 

Her grin dropped, and the mischief disappeared from her demeanor. “So,” Mapleshade hissed in a low voice, “you really should consider my plan. All your troubles would be over in a heartbeat.” She paused, leaning closer. “It wouldn’t be that hard, really. After all, if you hurt him badly enough; well, there goes all nine lives.” 

Squirrelflight gave the murderous she cat a look of horror. “No!” She scrambled back away from Mapleshade, fear in her eyes. “You’re asking me to kill my leader! My-” She cut herself off. He wasn’t her mate anymore, he’d made it perfectly clear. 

“Yes, yes, I know,” the low growl interrupted her thoughts. “He’s your leader, you love him, or whatever excuse you plan to give me. But think about it. What has he done for you? He’s mistreated you, taken his anger out on you, hated you for helping you sister. All while he was training with Tigerstar and Hawkfrost behind your back, or thinking himself too important to be tarnished by your lie and three half-clan kits. He didn’t care about you! He didn’t love you! He loved your attention. He loved feeling like he owned you.” She paused, drawing herself up to her full height and glaring down at the other she-cat. “In fact, if the roles were reversed… I doubt he’d turn away an opportunity like this.”

A chill went through Squirrelflight. Surely I can’t believe her, she thought. She’d say anything to get me to agree. Bramblestar isn’t evil…. 

She opened her mouth to give a retort- perhaps defend Bramblestar- to say anything at all. But no words came out. A thin, choked wail escaped her, half caught in her throat. She crouched low to the ground, letting all the misery and anguish she had pushed to the back of her mind for moons on end consume her. Is this Starclan’s punishment for my lies, she wondered, unable to think of any other reason this would be happening to her.

For a moment, Mapleshade’s expression softened, flickering from cruelty to concern. Then the glare returned. “You’re pathetic, letting him ruin your life like this.” The huge tortoiseshell stood, circling Squirrelflight, scrutinizing her. “I am offering you a solution, and you can’t even take it. He’s turned you into a coward.” She raised a paw, unsheathing her claws. Bringing the paw down, she scored her claws on the muzzle of the smaller she-cat. “You can’t fight back. Not against me, and certainly not against him. Not without my help.”

Squirrelflight felt a surge of fear alongside the newfound pain searing into her face. Looking up at Mapleshade, she saw anger blazing in her yellow eyes. Fear caused her chest to tighten. She braced herself for whatever the villainess might do next, shutting her eyes tight.

No blows nor words came. Slowly, the deputy opened one eye. She was back in the warrior’s den, the watery grey light of dawn barely breaking through the dense foliage that created the shelter. 

The nest of moss she had slept on had been torn to shreds. She could only guess fitful thrashing was the cause. In the dim light, she could just barely make out a few scattered drops of blood. Pain still scorched her muzzle, even more so as she licked a paw and dragged it over her face to clean it, smearing her own blood on the white patch of fur that covered her paw. 

She sighed, not bothering to continue cleaning herself. She knew no one would ask about it anyways.

[eire-cant-write]

Blooming Out of Death

Chapter 9

Word count: 736

Before Squirrelflight could step into the den, Leafpool emerged, a welcoming smile on her face. She could only guess her sister had heard or scented her before she reached the den. The deputy dipped her head, returning the smile. 

“Come on in,” Leafpool instructed. “I’ve got some poppy seeds set aside for you.” 

Letting out a low purr of thanks, Squirrelflight followed her sister into the den. The same overlapping herb-scents that had cluttered her senses earlier yet again began to assault her nose. She tried her best to ignore the sharp scents that made her eyes begin to water. Squirrelflight had no clue how the healers could stand it, particularly Jayfeather, who had proven time and again his sense of smell was rather strong.

Compared to the dappled sunlight that filled the den in the day, the shadows that filled every corner of the den made it seem like a different place entirely. The strangeness of it filled Squirrelflight with a sense of unease. She wondered how her kin could stand sleeping alone in a shadowy stone den rather than surrounded by the warmth of their clanmates. 

Shaking the thought from her head, the ginger she-cat trotted over to where Leafpool waited beside the small pool of water inside the den. A broad glossy leaf lay at her paws, holding three poppy seeds. The tabby she-cat nudged the dose of sleep aid toward her sister. Gratefully, Squirrelflight lowered her head and lapped up the seeds, careful to swallow all three.

 “That should help you sleep a bit better tonight,” Leafpool said brightly, laying her tail across the ginger she-cat’s shoulders comfortingly. Squirrelflight nodded, having no doubt that the poppy seeds would help her fall asleep quickly. 

She was, however, unsure if it would help with the strange dreams. She wasn’t sure they even were just dreams. 

Nevertheless, she kept her worries to herself. She was certain she could handle it, just as she had handled every other unfortunate event in her life, from losing her home, to the Great Battle. Just like every other misfortune she’d encountered, Squirrelflight would face it, and come out stronger. 

“Thank you, Leafpool,” she mewed.

Within the time Leafpool had ushered Squirrelflight in and treated her, Jayfeather had settled into his nest, and was now glaring at the two she-cats. “That’s all well and good,” he called. “But some cats are trying to sleep.” 

Squirrelflight couldn’t help but smile. No matter what changed, there were always going to be somethings that remained the same, like Jayfeather’s attitude. “I should be going,” the deputy murmured to her sister. “I can’t show up at the Gathering looking like I haven’t slept in a moon.” 

Lowering her head, Squirrelflight rested her muzzle against Leafpool’s shoulder for a heartbeat, then stood and turned toward the entrance to the den. Meowing a quiet farewell, the ginger she-cat slunk out of the den. 

Without a moment’s hesitation, Squirrelflight began making her way to the warrior’s den. She was quite aware that she would likely never spend another night in the leader’s den. Not that it mattered to her anymore, which it certainly didn’t. She’d made her decision to give up on Bramblestar, as he had obviously given up on her. 

The poppy seeds seemed to be doing their job. With every passing moment, Squirrelflight found herself having less and less energy to care what Bramblestar did or thought. Her jaws stretched open in a wide yawn that she could not contain. 

Hurrying the last few paces to the warrior’s den, the deputy ducked inside the cozy space, setting her sight on her nest toward the center of the group. Carefully, she weaved her way around the other cats, some already sleeping, others simply settling down for the night. 

She reached her nest, flopping down onto the moss as though her body was made from the same stone as the walls of the hollow. Sleep was closing in on her, quicker than she expected. 

Just before slipping into the comforting darkness of unconsciousness, she managed to curl up, tucking her nose under her front paws and wrapping her fluffy tail around herself. Her eyes fluttered closed as she finally gave way to sleep. 

Mere moments later, her bright green eyes flicked open, taking in the sight of a warm fragrant meadow, filled with tall grass and wildflowers. Wreathing around her was the scent of the starless sky.

[eire-cant-write]

Blooming Out of Death

Chapter 8

Word count: 834

By the time Sparkpelt and Squirrelflight had returned to camp with their catch, the sun was dipping low in the sky. Shadows swallowed the stone hollow, reinforcing the chill that the leaf-fall air brought. 

The two she-cats had hunted till they had caught at least enough prey to feed the queens and elders. Most of their bounty was rather scrawny, but better than nothing. The prize catch, however, was a large black bird Squirrelflight had taken down with the help of her daughter, who had finished off the bird with a bite to the throat while the older cat held it down, pinning the fluttering wings. That could feed two cats, and Starclan knew the clan would be grateful for such a large piece of prey so late in the season. 

The duo of ginger cats delivered the fresh-kill to their waiting clanmates, Squirrelflight taking the bird to the nursery for Daisy and Blossomfall while Sparkpelt offered the mice and vole to the elders. 

Sticking her head into the nursery, the deputy mewed a greeting to the queens around the mouthful of feathers clamped between her teeth. She dropped the bird between Daisy and Blossomfall, sure they’d rather share their meal in the warmth of the den rather than the cold stone floor of the clearing. Blossomfall purred her thanks as Daisy shuffled closer for her share of the fresh-kill. 

“If you leave the bones outside the den, I’ll have an apprentice come clean it up,” Squirrelflight offered. “It’s far too cold for either of you to be going too far out of the nursery tonight.” Dipping her head, the ginger she-cat left her clanmates to eat in peace.

While hunting with Sparkpelt, Squirrelflight had managed to push her worries about her dreams and Bramblestar out of her mind. Now, however, as stars began to twinkle in the darkening sky, and ice cold winds pushed warriors into their den, she couldn’t help but wonder if she should take Leafpool up on her offer for a few poppy seeds to aid in her sleep. Surely her denmates would be grateful for a break from her restless tossing and turning in an attempt to fall asleep. 

Squirrelflight sighed. She was getting ahead of herself. A guard for the night still needed to be appointed, and she had to organize the dawn patrol before she could even think about sleep. 

She surveyed the few warriors that remained in the clearing, most others having already settled into the warrior’s den for the night. With a flick of her tail, the deputy beckoned to one of the warriors, a white she cat. 

“Whitewing,” she called as the light warrior padded over. “I’d like you to be the guard for the camp tonight.” Whitewing nodded. “Sure,” she agreed. The white warrior gave a teasing smirk. “Tell me you weren’t saving the coldest night this moon for me!” 

Squirrelflight let out a soft laugh at the warrior’s teasing. “Believe me, it was not intentional. Before you take your post for the night, could you send Cherryfall to come talk to me? I want her to lead the dawn patrol,” she asked. Whitewing dipped her head once more, about to walk away when a low voice interrupted them. 

“That won’t be necessary.” 

Bramblestar stalked the last few paces up to the she-cats slowly. “I will lead the dawn patrol myself.” 

Squirrelflight clenched her jaw, trying to contain her surprise at the leader’s decision. Is he trying to undermine me? She flicked an ear as though trying to shake away the thought. Now was no time to be suspicious of him. “Are you sure that is a good idea?” 

She avoided making eye contact, yet did not cower away from him. That’s what he would want, isn’t it? Squirrelflight knew that he always had wanted her to be more agreeable, ever since she was an apprentice. “The gathering is tomorrow. It would not do us any favors to appear tired or overworked to the other clans.” 

The large tabby dismissed her concerns, shaking his broad head. “My decision is final,” he insisted. 

Squirrelflight fought off a scowl, giving a polite nod. “Very well.” What is the point of having a deputy if you don’t listen to their advice? 

Whitewing mewed a farewell, turning to pad over toward the camp entrance. Bramblestar glanced at Squirrelflight like he expected her to say something, perhaps expecting her to argue over his decision. 

It didn’t matter to her if he’d rather she argue or accept it, Squirrelflight had decided she wouldn’t agonize over his behavior anymore. She would simply serve her clan to the best of her ability, and to do that, she needed to take care of herself as well, starting with taking Leafpool’s advice. 

If Bramblestar expected her to work herself to death just to please him, he was going to be sorely disappointed. Without a word nor a glance in the dark tabby’s direction, she stood, and set her paws toward the medicine den.

[eire-cant-write]

Blooming Out of Death

Chapter 7

Word count: 323

“Squirrelflight?” 

A voice calling her name pulled the she-cat out of her thoughts. Looking up from the ground, she caught sight of a pair of eyes green as leaves against a copy of her dark ginger pelt. 

“Squirrelflight, are you alright,” Sparkpelt asked. “You’ve been acting kind of strange today. Even Alderheart thinks so.” The young warrior trailed off. She had obviously seen the deputy snap at the gossiping warriors, something she never did. Squirrelflight wondered if her daughter had heard of the reprimanding Bramblestar had all but made public to the entire clan. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Squirrelflight reassured her daughter, forcing a tense purr into her words. Sparkpelt simply frowned in response. “Bramblestar is just stressed,” the young warrior said soothingly. “As soon as the issues with Shadowclan and the rogues blow over, he’ll calm down. You’ll see.” Sparkpelt butted her mother’s shoulder with her forehead, leaning into her affectionately. 

“Come on,” she said, nudging Squirrelflight toward the thorn tunnel. “You’ll feel better if you’re not stuck in camp with him. Besides, you did say the clan needs fresh kill.” Sparkpelt’s green eyes sparkled with mischief. Clearly, she had overheard her mother telling off the gossiping group of warriors.

Squirrelflight smiled at her daughter, feeling her spirits lift a bit. She hadn’t gotten to spend much time with either of her kits since before they left on their quest to find Skyclan. Sparkpelt was right, time out of camp would do her good. She gave in, trailing after the younger she-cat along the path out of camp. 

Amber eyes burned into her pelt, following her as she left camp. Squirrelflight spared no mind. She wasn’t going to let Bramblestar treat her like an apprentice, no matter how irritable he got. If he was going to waste time, watching her like a hawk, she wouldn’t so much as glance in his direction. 

Without another second’s hesitation, she disappeared into the dark tunnel.

[eire-cant-write]

Blooming Out of Death

Chapter 6

Word count: 940

Upon the return to camp, the two sisters made their way to the medicine den. Squirrelflight noticed the small pile of unusable herbs had been discarded and the stacks Jayfeather had been sorting were put away, tucked safely into large cracks in the rock wall. There was no sign of the tom, though his scent was not yet stale. She could guess that he must have left moments before she and Leafpool had arrived. 

“I hope Jayfeather went to collect more catmint,” Leafpool muttered. “We need as much as we can get before leafbare. A greencough outbreak would be disastrous.” 

The slender tabby busied herself searching the herb stores for thyme, sticking her paws into the cracks and hooking her claws on various herbs to pull them out. None of the herbs she clawed out had the glossy pointed leaves of thyme. With a frustrated huff, the healer began nosing around other areas of the storage. 

“I keep telling him not to move everything around. The way I organize my herbs has been working perfectly fine for seasons! Cinderpelt organized hers the same way! I don’t understand why he insists on having his way,” she growled. 

Alderheart peered around the brambles that protected the den. “Leafpool, do you need help?” As he trotted into the den, he spotted his mother, waiting patiently. “Squirrelflight,” he exclaimed, a note of surprise in his mew. “Is something wrong? Are you hurt?” 

The dark ginger tom hurried over to where the deputy sat, circling her to check for wounds. She purred at him, nudging his shoulder gently with her forehead. “I’m alright,” she reassured him. “Leafpool just thought I looked a bit off, so she offered to treat me.” 

Guilt flooded her as she lied to her son. Her sister cast a glance over her shoulder, amber eyes burning with worry. 

“Alderheart, do you know where the thyme is? Jayfeather keeps moving the herbs around.” Alderheart glanced at Squirrelflight nervously. He didn’t believe her excuse. “Go on and help her,” she mewed. “I won’t die if you do.” 

Her joke didn’t seem to soothe his worry for her, but trotted over to where Leafpool stood, stuffing herbs back into their places. He stuck a paw into the wall and fished around for a heartbeat. When he withdrew from the crack, a sprig of thyme was snagged on his claws. He offered it to Leafpool, who, with a nod of gratitude, peeled the herb from his claws and brought it over to Squirrelflight.

“Eat this,” she instructed, placing the spring on the ground before Squirrelflight. 

The deputy obliged with a roll of her eyes, taking the leaves between her teeth and chewing it thoroughly. She winced at the bitter taste as she swallowed. 

“Oh,” Leafpool added, as Squirrelflight finished off the herbs. “If you come back tonight, I’ll give you some poppy seeds to help you sleep.” The tabby she-cat rested her muzzle on her sister’s head. “Try to take a moment to slow down,” she whispered. “If Bramblestar has an issue with it, send him to me. And that’s coming from your healer, not your sister.” 

The ginger she-cat nodded, though she did not want to drag her sister into an already tense situation. “Alright then,” she said, backing away from her sister and son, “I’ll be on my way. Plenty of work to do.” Giving the two healers a smile, she padded out of the den without looking back. As she left, she could feel the two pairs of eyes burning into her.

Out in the main camp, cats milled about, some sharing tongues and grooming, others digging through the fresh-kill pile looking for something to eat. The prey that was being caught was beginning to stay on the scrawny side. With leafbare rapidly approaching, prey animals were retreating to their burrows to hide from the cold or sleep through the long snowy season. 

Hunting patrols would have to be sent out soon, though the weather seemed to be getting more gloomy with every passing moment. The fog had thickened, covering the entire territory with a cold dampness that clung to Squirrelflight’s thick pelt. She shook herself roughly, like she had just been for a swim, but her fur still felt uncomfortably waterlogged. 

Intending to organize the next border patrol before Bramblestar had another fit, the deputy padded over to the cats sharing tongues. Among the cats were Brackenfur, Thornclaw, Birchfall, Berrynose, Cinderheart. She sat down nearby, waiting for a lull in the conversation so she could ask for one of the cats to lead a patrol, though when she got within earshot, they lowered their voices. Thornclaw cast a guilty look at her. 

Straining her ears, the ginger she-cat tried to make out what they were saying. She caught the name ‘Bramblestar’ amidst the whispers and frowned. Were they talking about the scolding she’d received? 

“Thornclaw,” she called, her voice cold. “I don’t suppose you could lead a border patrol rather than sit around gossiping about your leader?” The brown tom narrowed his eyes, embarrassed to be called out by the deputy. He nodded, then flicked his tail to Berrynose and Birchfall. The group got up and left the camp. 

Turning her green gaze to the two cats who remained, Squirrelflight narrowed her eyes. “As for you two,” she meowed sternly. “You can go hunting. We need all the fresh-kill we can get. Leafbare is nearly upon us.” 

Without waiting for an answer, she nodded stiffly in farewell, then stalked away across the clearing. Shame burned through her like wildfire. Would she lose the respect of the clan because of her mistake? 

[eire-cant-write]

Blooming Out of Death

Chapter 5

Word count: 714

Piles of herbs were neatly stacked by the water’s edge. Bits of torn up leaves and shriveled berries had been pulled apart from the rest of the piles. It seemed the tom had been busy sorting the lifesaving herbs when Squirrelflight had approached. 

The fluffy ginger she-cat shuffled her paws, giving Leafpool an urgent look. “I need to speak with you,” she confessed in a hushed voice. “Outside of camp if you don’t mind.” She hoped her sister wasn’t too busy. Leafpool was the cat she trusted most, the only cat she could confide in.

Leafpool’s amber eyes flooded with worry, clearly guessing something was wrong with her sister. She slowly nodded, agreeing to Squirrelflight’s request, and padded out of the den, prepared to escort her sister into the woods. 

The deputy trailed after her, glancing over her shoulder at the other healer. If he had heard what she asked of her sister, he wasn’t interested. He was busy sorting through the herbs again. 

Squirrelflight shook her head, silently scolding herself for being suspicious of him. She’d never known him to be nosy. I’m just on edge, I’ve got nothing to worry about. She kept her head low as she and her sister walked side by side toward the thorny barrier of the camp. 

Stealing a quick glance around the clearing, the warrior caught a glimpse of amber eyes against a dark tabby pelt, following her with cold curiosity. She shuddered, thinking of the image of his lifeless body sprawled across the floor of his den, and slipped out of the camp through a tunnel in the thorns.

Leafpool and Squirrelflight trekked through the silent foggy woods, matching each other's steps stride for stride. 

Neither sister spoke a word till they had nearly reached the shore of the lake. When the lapping waves were in sight, Squirrelflight stopped, lingering by a tree. Lifting her head, she scented the air, ensuring she was alone with her sister. Another quick glance around, and she began to speak. 

“I know this might sound like a bit of an overreaction,” she began, muttering so that she could just barely be heard. “But I had a strange dream.” She flexed her claws, unsheathing them and digging them into the soft ground beneath her paws before sheathing them again. Absent-mindedly, she noted the ground did not squirm like it had in her dream, and let out a tense sigh. 

Her sister watched her intently, her gaze soft and concerned. “I dreamed of Mapleshade,” the ginger cat hissed under her breath. She looked up at Leafpool, expecting to see shock, maybe even horror on her face, but instead, there was simply confusion. Flicking her tail tip impatiently, she waited for the tabby she-cat to say something. “Well? Isn’t that a bad thing?” 

Leafpool closed her eyes, thinking carefully for a long moment. “It sounds like a nightmare,” she mewed back, not meeting Squirrelflight’s eyes. “We know the Dark Forest is far too few in numbers to be planning another attack. Perhaps Sandstorm's stories of her from the Great Battle made you dream of her?” She trailed off, her suggestion hanging dead in the air. 

Squirrelflight thought she heard a rough derisive laugh just behind her, though she had her back to the tree trunk. She doesn’t believe you, the gravelly voice of her dreams murmured to her. 

“You’ve been working too hard recently,” Leafpool interrupted the voice. “There was hardly any time for you to grieve for our mother before Darktail arrived. Bramblestar is demanding too much of you.” Her gaze was sympathetic. It made Squirrelflight feel lower than a bug. 

“I have to do my job,” she muttered, unsure of why she bothered to defend Bramblestar to her sister. 

Leafpool frowned, unsatisfied by her sister’s reply. “I can tell it’s bothering you,” she went on, her voice soft and soothing. “At least let me give you some thyme for the shock of it when we get back to camp, alright?” 

With a sigh Squirrelflight nodded. If it would stop Leafpool from worrying too much, she’d let her treat her when they returned. 

The realization that she was on her own hit her. If her own sister didn’t believe that the wicked she-cat had really spoken with her, no one would.

[eire-cant-write]

Blooming Out of Death

Chapter 4

Word count: 756

Squirrelflight couldn’t help but laugh at Mapleshade’s demand. “You’re kidding. That is the worst plan I’ve ever heard. Don’t you know he has all nine of his lives?” She scoffed, surprised that such an oversight had been made in the Dark Forest cat’s plans. “Some observation you’ve been doing,” she said scornfully. 

The ginger cat doubted if Mapleshade had really been watching them if she thought that Bramblestar could be killed that easily. 

With a throaty growl, Mapleshade scowled at the mocking of her idea. Fear flashed through Squirrelflight; upsetting a known killer was not a good idea. 

Yet, a heartbeat later, a sickeningly sweet smile replaced the frown. 

“If you aren’t capable, you only need ask for help,” she cooed in a saccharine tone. “I’ve trained plenty of cats to kill. You’re promising. I’m sure I could work something out for you, even as little as you are.” 

Squirrelflight couldn’t tell if it was her heartbeat she felt in her paws or not. Her heart was racing with fear and adrenaline, yet the pulsing she felt underpaw was rhythmic and slow, like the earth itself had its own pulse. She stared down at the ground, where the green grass had begun to wilt. The earth beneath looked slick and grey, rot covering the surface. An angry yowl sounded, and her gaze snapped up, finding Mapleshade’s honey eyes for a split second.

Squirrelflight awoke with a start, safe in the warriors den. Sunlight and murmuring filled the den. A few cats shot her concerned looks. 

She had been dreaming. The she-cat let go of a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. Perhaps she had just had a nightmare, brought on by her constant worrying. Nevertheless, now that she was away from the pulsating rotting meadow, her rapid heartbeat slowed. 

A moment later the entrance to the den rustled as a broad tabby head appeared. Amber eyes fixed on the deputy. Squirrelflight felt every muscle tense. “A word, Squirrelflight?” His voice was a cold hiss, betraying his anger. She dipped her head. “Yes, Bramblestar.” 

As the she-cat followed her leader out of the den, she was sure she caught a hint of that misty dark scent from her dream. Setting her jaw, Squirrelflight braced herself for a talk with her mate.

For the first time in moons, Squirrelflight was invited, or more so ordered, into Bramblestar’s den. 

Normally she would be happy, knowing that she’d get to curl up next to him to sleep or even just to spend time with him, but now, she wanted nothing more than to leave. He stared her down, eyes burning into her. She tried her best not to shy away, remembering when she would’ve stood up to him. 

It had been so long ago. Perhaps she lost that part of herself when he found the truth about their adopted children; when he turned his back on her, and the cats he once thought of as his children. 

“Are you listening to me?” The question pulled her from her memories. She stared at him, her eyes wide and filled with confusion. “Of course not,” he growled. “I said you need to take your position as deputy more seriously! You can’t be sleeping in like a lazy apprentice. I had to do your job for you today.” He huffed, his tail flicking irritably. “If I can’t trust you to do your duties now, how am I supposed to entrust the clan to you when I’m gone?” 

Squirrelflight’s vision flickered for a split second. When it came back, she saw the body of the clan leader laying at her paw, covered in wounds, blood smearing over the stone floor and puddling beneath his body. 

She blinked, and the scene before her changed again, back to Bramblestar glaring at her with apparent disappointment in his eyes. Do it. A quiet gravelly voice whispered to the deputy. A flash of light the color of honey appeared just behind the tabby tom. 

Squirrelflight lowered her head, staring down at her paws, clean of blood. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “It won’t happen again.” 

Bramblestar sighed, dismissing her with a wave of his paw. “See to it that it doesn’t,” he growled. 

Dipping her head once more, the ginger she-cat backed out of the leader’s den. A few cats in the clearing gave her curious looks. Wondering if she looked as unnerved as she felt, 

Squirrelflight made her way to the medicine den. If there was one cat who could help her, it was her sister, Leafpool.

[eire-cant-write]

Blooming Out of Death

Chapter 3

Word count: 975

Squirrelflight’s eyes went wide. 

It was almost like Mapleshade had read her mind, but that wasn’t possible. At least, she thought it wasn’t. 

The ginger cat sat back on her haunches, letting her fur lay flat, though she did not sheath her claws, and continued to glare at Mapleshade. “Why are you here,” she demanded. “What do you want from me? And where are we?” Squirrelflight wanted answers more than she feared the murdering tortie. 

Mapleshade laughed in response, a hint of an amused purr rumbling in her chest. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you,” she said, flicking her tail toward the short ginger cat. “I’m here to have a little talk with you, that’s all. Maybe we can see eye to eye.” 

The huge she-cat stood, stepping out of the reach of the shadows cast by the trees, and padding out into the field. Once she was fully in the sun, she stretched out in the lush grass as though she were sunning herself. With a flick of her matted tail, she beckoned to Squirrelflight, urging her to join her.

Reluctantly, she trailed after Mapleshade. 

The deputy’s curiosity was getting the better of her. Why was she actually considering listening to what she had to say? Squirrelflight knew she couldn’t trust the villainous she-cat. 

Stopping several mouselengths away from Mapleshade, Squirrelflights sat down. Mapleshade cast a glance her way, then scoffed, rolling her yellow eyes. She shifted to face the living cat. 

With a smirk, Mapleshade’s eyes locked on the ginger cat once more. “We have a lot in common, don’t you think?” 

It was Squirrelflight’s turn to scoff now. She glared down at the Dark Forest cat. “I’m nothing like you,” the deputy growled. 

The tortie cut her off with a sharp harsh laugh. “Ah, but that’s where you are wrong. We are much more alike than you realize.” When she didn’t get a response, Mapleshade continued. “Like I said, I’ve been watching you. Or should I say I’ve been watching you and Bramblestar.”

Squirrelflight felt her blood run cold. A Dark Forest cat had been watching them, just as they had been in the time leading up to the Great Battle. She wondered if they were planning another attack. Certainly with the deaths of so many comrades, the Dark Forest did not have the numbers to take on both the living cats and Starclan again? 

Mapleshade must have noticed Squirrelflight’s reaction, for her smirk only grew. “I’ve known of Bramblestar for a long time,” she confessed. “Since Tigerstar’s spirit came to reside in the Dark Forest. I knew he came to train with his father and brother in his dreams as well, just as the recruits for the Great Battle had. Mind you, this was long before the preparations for our invasion. Back when Hawkfrost was still alive.” 

Squirrelflight had been stunned into silence, a rare occurrence, especially for her. She always had something to say. But at this moment, all she could do was wonder why Bramblestar had kept such a secret from her.

The dead she-cat narrowed her eyes at Squirrelflight, watching her closely. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know!” 

No response came from the Thunderclan deputy. 

Mapleshade snorted in disdain. “That’s no surprise,” she muttered. There was a brief pause before she turned her attention back to the ginger cat. “I’ve seen the way he’s treated you. The endless seasons of his petty anger. That’s why I am here.” She drew herself up, sitting up at her full height and looming over Squirrelflight. 

The shorter she-cat’s head was reeling. Bramblestar had betrayed her trust. He had betrayed the entire clan by keeping the Dark Forest a secret. The information he had, that Tigerstar’s spirit still walked among the clans, could have saved her father. 

She stared up at Mapleshade, wide-eyed. “Why are you telling me this?”

The Dark Forest cat crept closer to her, laying her tail across Squirrelflight’s shoulders in a show of comfort. The living she-cat flinched away. “I’m telling you because I want to help you,” she meowed in response. 

“Think of all the times Bramblestar has betrayed you. He refuses to listen to you. He abandoned you when you took in your sister’s kits. Even when your own litter was stillborn, he never cared.” Her voice had a bitter edge to it, as though she had faced the injustices rather than Squirrelflight. “When the storm ravaged the clan territories, he was mooning over a kittypet, in front of you! His mate!” 

Squirrelflight hissed under her breath. She couldn’t deny it. Bramblestar had broken her trust, and her heart, time and time again. She lifted her head, a scowl settling on her face. “And what do you get out of helping me,” she growled at Mapleshade.

The large tortoiseshell’s eyes hardened with anger, glittering like chips of amber. 

“My mate betrayed me too. My clan kicked me out all because I had half-clan kits. I was in love, and they punished me for it. Thunderclan drove me out, and killed my kits in the process. I went to Riverclan, and my mate for help, but they denied me. He felt no remorse for taking another mate when we were in love, and no sorrow for our lost kits. So I took my revenge.” 

She leaned closer to Squirrelflight, her muzzle a whiskerlength from the small she-cat’s ear. “And now I will help you take yours.” Moving away, Mapleshade nonchalantly sprawled across the grass once more. “Of course it doesn’t hurt that my plan to help will also account for revenge on my own part.” 

Squirrelflight gave her companion a curious look “Your plan?” Did the she-cat truly have a plan to help the deputy? 

Mapleshade grinned, menace filling her eyes. “I knew that would get your attention. All you have to do, is kill Bramblestar.”

[eire-cant-write]

Blooming Out of Death

Chapter 2

Word count: 983

Squirrelflight lifted her head, opening her mouth to scent the air. There was no trace of Thunderclan scent. There was no clan scent at all. Just the sweet smell of flowers and wind laced with prey-scent. 

A strange scent lingered mixed in with the others, one that caught her attention. It smelled dark and cool, like a moonless night. The unfamiliar smell sent a chill up her spine. 

She glanced around, looking behind her. A looming forest of dark oak trees lay several foxlengths behind where she lay in the cool grass. 

Her heart leaping, Squirrelflight thought for a moment that perhaps she had simply wandered away from the forest at night and had forgotten. It could just be an unusually warm day for leaf-fall. 

But then she looked closer. The woods before her were unfamiliar, not a single cat scent emanating from it. 

What did come from the forest, though, was that strange, night-dark scent. 

Rising to her paws, the she-cat found herself drawn along the scent trail, following it.

She neared the woods, the shadows of the looming trees sprawling out before her paws, mere mouselengths away. Green eyes fixed on the spaces between the trees. The shadows were thick, like a black pelt. Another slow step forward, the Thunderclan deputy cautiously drew closer. Then she realized, amidst the dark shadows, gold eyes were staring back at her. 

Squirrelflight felt the fur along her spine begin to prickle, unsure if an unseen enemy awaited her in the trees. For the first time since she woke, she noticed the ground pulsing under her paws. There was only one way to find out if the eyes she had seen belonged to a friend or enemy. She braced herself, ready to march into the swathe of woods and find the creature watching her. 

Before she could take a step, a cat materialized as it stepped out of the shadows. 

Long fluffy tortoiseshell fur enveloped the strange she-cat, only parting where scars had cut their way through the thick pelt. A particularly noticeable patch of white fur created a sort of mane around her neck. The same honey yellow eyes that she had seen locked with hers. The cat was huge, nearly as big as the warrior she had raised, Lionblaze. One of her eyes had a scar stretching over it, though it did not seem to damage her sight. The strangest thing about this she-cat’s appearance, however, was that Squirrelflight could faintly see the trees through her dappled fur. This cat was dead.

The ginger she-cat knew that her newfound companion was not of Starclan. Her pelt didn’t glitter with starlight, nor did she give off the sharp, clear scent that the Starclan cats did. She knew this had to be a Dark Forest cat. 

The audacity she had to appear before her now, after her clanmates, after all the clans fought so hard to fend off the Dark Forest attack. After they killed her friends. Squirrelflight unsheathed her claws and crouched, narrowing her eyes at the Dark Forest she-cat. She’d heard stories of this cat, from her mother, after the Great Battle. 

This was Mapleshade. She’d not only attacked her mother, but successfully murdered a Starclan cat, the former healer of Thunderclan. 

She killed Spottedleaf. 

The deputy felt a growl building in her throat. If she killed her now, she’d rid the world of a very dangerous cat. 

But Mapleshade did not seem phased at all, by Squirrelflight’s presence nor her obvious aggression. The tortoiseshell she-cat simply curled her tail over her large dark paws. 

Squirrelflight couldn’t help but wonder if her paws were truly dark or if they had been stained beyond repair by blood and the rot of the Dark Forest. Mapleshade stared down at the shorter she-cat, her eyes holding no malice. 

Confusion took hold of the ginger she-cat. Why hadn’t she attacked her yet? Wasn’t she here to kill her, like she had tried to kill her mother? If she was, Squirrelflight would not go down without a fight. 

“Calm down,” Mapleshade rasped, her low voice slightly gravelly. “If I wanted you dead, I’d have killed you already.” 

[eire-cant-write]

Blooming Out of Death

Chapter 1

Word count: 1500

Squirrelflight knew better by now. She knew she couldn’t let herself get her hopes up. She couldn’t let herself think that maybe, maybe, today would be the day Bramblestar would really notice her. That he’d notice what he put her through, and that he’d notice she wasn’t happy. He’d give affection to her freely without some grand tragedy forcing them together again. 

She couldn’t do that to herself anymore. 

But she did. Every single day she hoped, prayed to Starclan, that he’d wake up- change back into the tom she fell in love with. Every day her prayers went unanswered. 

Squirrelflight was so tired. Tired of trying to please him all the time. Trying to be the perfect mate and the perfect deputy. Bramblestar demanded only the best. Nevertheless, she would keep trying. It was all she could do. 

The gathering would be coming up soon. Like always, Squirrelflight knew it would be best if she just held her tongue, and supported whatever Bramblestar said. Perhaps this time she would succeed. She never was really the type to do so, but she was deputy now, and it was her job to support her leader, not to argue with him. 

Rolling out of her nest, the ginger she-cat shook her head, clearing away the despairing thoughts. It was time for her to organize patrols. Another part of her job, though one that came easier to her than keeping the image of herself and her mate untarnished. 

Could she even call him her mate anymore? Their kits had grown up, and he didn’t seem to be interested in having more, nor did he seem very interested in her at all. 

Thoughts for another time. 

Taking long strides to stretch her legs, the deputy emerged from the warrior’s den into the clearing that made up her home. She took in the familiar sight of the stone walls surrounding the camp. The looming ledges and cliffs were laced with early morning mist. Silence enveloped the camp like snowdrifts in leafbare, peaceful and light. 

Mousewhisker was the only other cat to be seen, guarding the camp entrance diligently till he was relieved of his position for the day. The ginger she-cat gave him a small sympathetic smile, thinking how he must be exhausted. Once the dawn patrol set out, she’d be sure to tell him to get some rest. 

She surveyed the dwindling fresh-kill pile, making a mental note to send out hunting patrols as soon as possible. Though it was only leaf-fall, it was a priority to stock up the prey they would need in the coming moons. 

Squirrelflight padded her way back to the warrior’s den, fluffing her fur up against the chill that was common for leaf-fall, though she could do nothing about the ice-cold stone beneath her paws. She poked her head inside, prodding a nearby silver and white cat.

 Ivypool lifted her head, blinking sleepily, and let out a yawn. “What do you need,” she muttered, still seeming to be stuck partially in sleep. “I’d like you to lead the dawn patrol,” the ginger she-cat instructed. “Take Lilyheart, Fernsong, and Twigpaw with you.” 

Ivypool nodded in response, setting her attention on grooming her slightly ruffled pelt quickly. “I will wake Fernsong and Lilyheart,” Squirrelflight offered. She figured Ivypool could handle her apprentice herself. 

Weaving her way through sleeping bodies, Squirrelflight gently woke the other two warriors assigned to the patrol. They offered no argument. At least she could trust the warriors of her clan to respect her.

Once Ivypool and her patrol had gathered in the clearing, having a quick meal before they set off, the deputy approached Mousewhisker. He dipped his head as she approached. Squirrelflight nodded in return, coming to a stop next to him. She sat down, curling her bushy tail over her paws. She almost hoped that would help keep her paws from freezing off. 

“You should get some rest,” she began, glancing at the grey and white tom. “I can keep watch till more cats are up. Mind you, I’ll expect you up around sunhigh.” The she-cat kept her voice light, trying not to betray her own weariness, though it had not come from guarding the camp all night. 

“You’re sure?” Mousewhisker seemed hesitant to abandon his post, even though it was the deputy of the clan itself offering to take his place. 

Squirrelflight nodded. She had much to attend to, and going back to sleep would not accomplish that. 

The tom purred his thanks to her, standing and slinking away toward the den. The dawn patrol cats had just finished their meal once Mousewhisker disappeared into the den. As they passed by Squirrelflight, she offered a polite nod, then she was once again alone in the clearing.

The sun had risen just above the trees before Squirrelflight was able to get out of the camp. She’d guarded the camp entrance till the dawn patrol came back. Cats had begun to mill about the clearing, so she took to delegating the rest of the duties for the day, organizing a hunting patrol first. 

Poppyfrost, Bumblestripe, and Cherryfall had volunteered, though the deputy knew she’d have to send out another patrol after they returned, regardless of how much they caught. 

Twigpaw was busy tending to the elders’ ticks, leaving the rest of the apprentice duties undone. Warriors would have to pitch in if anything were to get done. Squirrelflight had taken it upon herself to lend a paw after she gave the task of leading the sunhigh border patrol to Whitewing, allowing her to take whichever cats she saw fit.  

The thorny barrier surrounding the camp entrance tugged at her fur as she padded out into the forest. As the bustle of the now busy camp faded behind her, Squirrelflight lifted her muzzle and took a deep breath. She intended to collect moss for bedding, but it wouldn’t hurt to catch any prey she came across as well. 

All that she could smell was the cool breeze and the scent of Thunderclan cats. It wouldn’t make sense for prey to be so close to the camp. Still the lack of even faint prey-scent made her uneasy. Leafbare was on the way, much quicker than she’d like. With a sigh, the ginger she-cat padded on through the forest, searching along rocks and tree trunks for patches of moss. 

The further she traveled into the dense swathe of trees, the more she let her thoughts wander. She thought back to her worries from earlier. Bramblestar had been pulling away from her, she was sure of it. Squirrelflight didn’t even know if she wanted to try to stop him anymore. He didn’t care for her, not like he used to. Was it her fault? Had she done something to upset him? 

Just about everything she did seemed to upset him, but they had always made up in the past. Maybe their relationship had been doomed from the beginning. 

With a slight spark of anger, Squirrelflight remembered how he had chosen to pursue a friendship with Hawkfrost, his now dead half brother from Riverclan, when they first arrived at the lake, rather than listen to her suspicions about him. In the end, the ambitious Riverclan warrior had attempted to murder her father, Firestar. Bramblestar had been forced to kill his own brother to save the clan leader, at which point the spirit of the treacherous warrior had joined the Dark Forest. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but the memory was burned into her as though it had happened less than a moon ago.

She sniffed at a patch of moss she had stumbled across, wondering if she should’ve just given up on him then. A pang of grief resonated in her chest when she realized that if she had, her beloved kits would not exist. No matter what Bramblestar put her through, she’d never regret Alderheart and Sparkpelt. 

She never regretted raising her sister’s kits either, though it had only served to put more distance between her and Bramblestar. 

Squirrelflight ripped the moss from the tree trunk, her claws making small scores in the bark. It was slightly damp, but still springy and soft. Once it dried out it would make for perfect bedding in the elders den. 

This may very well be her calling now. To care for her clans as she did for her kits. To find pride and joy in her life as deputy, regardless of if Bramblestar cared about her in the least. 

Bundling up the moss and squeezing as much moisture as she could out of it, the deputy began to bring her findings back to the camp. She knew that once she got back to the busy camp, she’d forget her worries till night had fallen, and she could be alone with her thoughts. 

Starclan, should they be merciful, might send her easy sleep after sunset. She doubted it. Like normal, she’d probably lay awake in her nest, restlessness wearing away at her.

[eire-cant-write]

Tales of Everton: Cynder

Chapter 2

Word count: 463

Tw: Panic attack

Cynder emerged from the room in a charcoal grey tank top and black leggings. She nervously ran a hand through her short grey hair, uncomfortably aware that she had not brushed her usually fluffy curls out of the unsightly tangle they were in now. "Well," Cyder said, forcing her silvery eyes to meet Max's. "Lead the way." Flame bringing up the rear, the group wound through long dim hallways. With every passing moment, Cynder's heart pounded harder, until she couldn't tell the rush of blood from the dull roar of voices coming from the double doors at the end of the hall. How many people were in there if they could be heard through the dense metal doors?

Max grasped a handle, and with apparent effort, heaved the door open. Behind it were more people than Cynder had seen in years, since Selene and Holt's inauguration. Flame nudged Cyder forward, then brushed past her, padding after Max. Cynder dropped her head, trying to avoid eye contact, and followed the fiery jaguar. The people milled about, pushing against the anxious girl and making her stumble as she trailed after Dox, Flame, and Max. Suddenly the group stopped, and, not paying attention, Cynder stepped on the jaguar's tail. Flame let out a yowl and Cyder jumped back, slamming into a girl with a curly ponytail and a black and white dress.

The room went quiet as everyone stared at Cynder. "S-sorry," she stammered, feeling a thousand eyes burn into her. Max, with an expression of horror, dragged Cynder away from the girl. "Don't you know who that is," he hissed under his breath. Cynder shook her head, glancing back at the girl. She looked embarrassed. "Max let her go," she said. "I'm Euphemia Grantham, but you can call me Effie." Effie extended a hand toward Cynder. "Grantham? As in Erasmus Grantham? As in the head of the council," Cynder exclaimed. "Please forgive me, had I known it was you-" Effie cut her off by grabbing her hand, not even batting an eye at the cold metal. "It's okay Cynder, please don't feel like you need to treat me any differently because of my father." She gave Cynder a warm smile. "This must be a stressful day for you. I'll escort you to the council meeting, if you allow me that is." Cynder nodded, and Effie led the group to the back of the room, still clinging to Cynder's metal arm. The crowd parted before Effie, giving the group a wide path to the semi-circle table where the council sat. At the head of the table sat Erasmus Grantham, but what caught Cynder's eye was infinitely more important. It was Camphor, standing by the table with her apparatus, a dragon with scales the color of gold.

[eire-cant-write]

Boredom : Genshin Short Story

Word Count: 275

Warnings: N/A

Xingqiu sat in a plush chair by the fire, staring into the flames through half closed eyes. The book in his lap could not hold his interest, try as he might to read it. He sighed and closed the book, setting it on the end table next to his chair.

“What’s wrong,” his friend, Chongyun, asked from his own chair while gnawing on a popsicle. Xingqiu turned his gaze to the other boy. “I’ve already read that book,” he replied. He looked past his friend to the window behind him, watching the snow swirl around outside. Xingqiu frowned, but he knew he couldn’t go to the bookstore. It was too cold to make his way across the harbor, and there wouldn’t be a warm fire in the bookstore like there was at his home.

Chongyun stood and walked over to the bookshelf that was stuffed to the brim with various novels and volumes. He picked one at random and handed it to Xingqiu. “How about this one?” he offered. Xingqiu looked over the cover. “I’ve read it. I’ve read every book in this house,” he exclaimed. “That’s why I spend my time at the bookstore, it’s the only place I can find anything new.” Chongyun took the book back, sliding into its place on the shelf, and returned to his seat. “Well the storm can’t last much longer,” Chongyun reassured his friend. “It’s already been three hours.” Xingqiu let out another heavy sigh. “I hope you’re right,” he mumbled. He leaned into the armrest on his chair and rested his chin on his hand, staring at the fire once more, wishing the storm would end.